Horrible Places, Imaginary Faces
by fallstofast
Summary: Blaine has been taunted by bullies all his life.  He often travels to a far off place where an imaginary boy dwells, Blaine's perfect match    Trigger Warning: Self Harm and Suicidal Thoughts
1. Chapter 1

"_You're such a fucking faggot!" _

"_GAYYYYYYY"_

"_Go back in the closet you homo"_

The words passed through Blaine's head a mile a minute, the voices of the bullies taunting him over and over. And look where it brought him, sitting on his bed looking at the collection of razors, glass, and sharp plastic he had collected since he was fourteen. He looked down at his exposed ankles, wrists, and stomach and sobbed. They were everywhere, reminders of just how disgusting and useless he felt, how useless and disgusting he believed he was. Blaine leaned back into his pillows and cried. He cried for longer then he ever remembered crying. When he finally stopped to look at the clock it read 12:30 am. When had he sat down on his bed? What was he even doing? Not knowing what else to do he grabbed a towel, new sweatpants,and his razors and headed for the shower.

Fifteen minutes later he was sitting on the floor of the shower watching red swirl down the drain. Twelve new lines running from his knee to his hip, and five on his ankles. He threw the razor aganist the wall of the shower and leaned back aganist the cool shower wall. Blaine sat and let the steam envelop him, try to take him to a better place.

"_I love you, Blaine" said the nameless boy of his recurring fantasies. Blaine looked up and saw the perfect human being standing in front of him. Porcelain white skin, almost transparent. Chocolate brown hair, thicker then a forest and deep brown eyes to match. The imaginary boy wore a simple white v neck and skinny jeans but he was all the Blaine had ever wanted. The imaginary figure came down and kissed Blaine's forehead. And just like that the angry voices came back to him, and the perfect boy was gone. _

"_FAG!"_

"_I'm gonna kill you homo!"_

"_You shouldn't be allowed to live, faggot."_

He flicked the razor aganist his wrist three more times before cleaning up and drying off.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Come on now your good friends are here waiting this one out, you better come back do-"_

Blaine awoke to the sound of his phone and began to wonder what time it was. He looked down at his phone to see a new email and that it was 12:37 pm.

"Well, not like I have friends or things to do anyways" he said under his breath as he got up and ran his finger through his still wet hair. Looking down at the pillow he saw the wet spot his head had left, something that his mother hated. Blaine quickly flipped the pillow over before trudging to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and in the foreground saw his razor still sitting on the lip of the tub.

"Shit shit shit" he whispered under his breath, grabbing the razor and shoving them into his pocket. He ran to his parents room to see if they were home, and found the bed untouched from how the housekeeper left it yesturday. Blaine felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders as he pictured his parents staying the apartment they had in the city, an entire ten miles from where he was now. Blaine put on some sneakers and ran down the steps. He passed the kitchen where he saw Sara, their housekeeper, sweeping.

"Blaine, come I'll make you food. Your mother says you need to eat."

"Not hungry, Sara. Going for a walk." he said jogging out the door and hearing Sara's exasperated sigh as he closed the door.

Blaine sat down, panting, on a park bench. Instead of walking like he planned he never stopped running and was now at the park on the other side of town. He reached for his phone and scraped the razors in his search, bringing back memories of the night he had had. It felt like every night for the past month had been this way. Horrific yet okay, because of his imaginary boy. The boy that comforted him when the razor was right up aganist his skin. The boy that gave him the love that his parents never cared too. The boy who helped to keep him going in his hell of a life. Thinking of hell, Blaine rembered how hot he was and found that he was wearing sweatpants on one of the hottest days of the year, it was the Summer Solstice.

"Shit, I must look like an idiot wearing sweatpants when its nearly a hundred degrees out." he thought to himself as he watched people run by, barely clothed in shorts and tank tops. He got up and ran right back home, and never stopped running until he got up to his room.


End file.
